


How am I supossed to pretend?

by FinditAgain



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers to Morons, Frottage, Gratuitous bottle episode, Hence the moron, M/M, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinditAgain/pseuds/FinditAgain
Summary: He’s wracked his brain to try to understand the shifts in Jace’s behavior lately: from the soft touches to the casual kisses and now asking him to meet his parents. There’s only one possible explanation.“How do you know when someone is trying to make you their boyfriend?”
Relationships: Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Comments: 26
Kudos: 202
Collections: Hunter's Moon Creation Exchange, Hunter's Moon Fic Recs





	How am I supossed to pretend?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sobsicles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/gifts).



> This fic is part of the gift exchange from the Hunter’s Moon Discord server. My gift is for [ sobsicles ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles).
> 
> Sobs, I was so happy to get you in this exchange. When everything started earlier this year it really helped me to rediscover my interest in some of the minor pairings from SH, and your stories are still some of my favorites for this pairing. I hope this fic makes you smile.
> 
> Thank you to the amazing [ SheWillHuntYouDown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWillHuntYouDown/pseuds/SheWillHuntYouDown) who was kind enough to beta at very last minute. You are wonderful!

There’s a warm body sitting on his lap, firm hands sliding slowly up his sides as impatient lips move against his own. He shifts to rest his weight better on the back rest supporting them, and the body above him immediately moves closer, lips catching his tongue and sucking it into his mouth, pressing in deeper. Simon can feel his fingers burning with the urge to pull them even closer, see if he can make it so that there’s not even an inch of space between them.

Having Jace Wayland as a regular make out partner is probably the pinnacle of Simon's college experience. He can’t be the first person to think so, seeing as Jace is the walking cliché of a ‘big man on campus’. Gorgeous, passing every subject, and being the star of their school’s lacrosse team meant Jace had a new girl, or guy, on his arm every week. Copious amounts of beautiful people were always vying for his attention.

But Simon is pretty sure that he’s the only one of them with a firm grasp of the _friend_ aspect of Friends with Benefits. Hell, he was probably the only person alive who has seen Jace both naked in bed and streaking across the football field on a dare.

Which is why he has the will power to detach himself from the gorgeous body currently trying to get into his pants.

“Seriously Jace, someone might come in,” he tries to push Jace off of his lap but the blond won’t budge, swatting Simon’s hands away.

“You’re the one with the slot after mine, no one else is coming in,” he goes to press their lips together again and Simon just barely dodges him.

“Yeah, and that means that you’ve already taken-” he chances a look at his phone, “Fifteen minutes out of my rehearsal time.”

Jace grabs Simon’s face in his hands, bringing his attention back to the mismatched pair of eyes in front of him. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises in a sultry voice. It’s almost enough to make Simon lose all thought.

“Jace-”

“Are you saying you really want me to stop doing this?” his hips shift down in a slow, deliberate grind that brings them together _just right_ , making both of them groan helplessly. In that moment, all Simon wants is to bury his face against Jace’s shoulder and breathe in the faint smell of grass and mint that always lingers around him.

Somewhere in the back of Simon’s mind it registers that he’s still clutching at Jace’s hips, his hands not obeying his brain's instructions.

“Stop is a harsh word; I meant more postpone until we’re somewhere less semi-public,” he says, holding back a breathless moan, “and until after your session with Dr. Fell.”

“Ragnor would call this a necessary peer bonding experience.”

He wants to call bullshit, but that actually sounds like something Jace’s quirky therapist might say.

Last year Jace learned that the man that raised him wasn’t his father, and that his birth parents were dead. Anyone would have gone off the rails after something like that, but Jace over excelled as he did in all things. It took Alec chewing him out for not knowing where he was for an entire weekend (at Lake Lyn in some kind of anguish induced drinking bender) for Jace to dive headfirst into what he called “healthy habits”. Simon preferred to think of it as douchebag detox.

Though, to be fair, not that much had changed since Jace started seeing a therapist, except he was calmer now, and steadier. Plus, he developed a new, and somewhat obsessive appreciation for goal setting. Jace had a Plan now, of where he wanted his life to go and he was determined to tweak everything to fit his vision.

Simon was self-aware enough to figure that he somehow fit into The Plan when Jace dropped down beside Simon at Magnus’ post-New Year’s Eve party and told him “we’re friends now” in no uncertain terms.

He was obviously meant to be the reliable pal. Seeing as Jace was lacking any form of emotional self-preservation, he clearly needed all the people he could get to support his journey, so he’d chosen Simon as another buddy to add to the mix. And he was fine with that. No, really.

Friendship with Jace consisted of a heavy dose of bickering, and lots of unnecessary trips to the gym. But it also meant weekly movie nights, random ghost hunting trips, and late-night milkshakes.

How they went from that to hooking up, he has no idea.

It possibly boils down to Simon getting drunk on Spring Break and kissing Jace on someone’s back porch. Like an idiot.

The next day he was really shaken up about possibly ruining their friendship. Jace offered him some unexpected comfort. Somehow, the comforting turned into someone’s hand down someone else’s swim shorts and the whole affair ended with the both of them naked in Jace’s bed, rubbing each other off.

And then it just. kept. happening.

Which should be perfectly okay. Simon didn’t fancy himself the friends with benefits type, but college was about experimenting right?

Except it wasn't okay, it was not okay at all.

Because Jace? The most sought-after guy in their school? That guy was already amazing. Jace working on his issues? Actively trying?

That Jace was _perfect._

That Jace made pancakes on Saturday mornings and looked over his chord progressions when he was stuck on a song. That Jace got him and Clary tickets to Comic Con and followed them all through the con floor with an indulgent smile. That Jace was charming and protective and still a total asshole, but one that rubbed Simon’s back when it hurt and let Simon cuddle with him without bringing it up the next day.

He always made enough coffee for everyone, looked amazing in any possible setting, cherished his friends so profoundly, and Simon-

Simon was in some deep trouble.

“Jace, I mean it,” he pushes the blonde off him and he finally relents, throwing himself down next to Simon with an annoyed groan.

“Simon come on, it’s been like a week.”

“That’s no excuse to sully the sanctity of room 605,” it is said in great part because he would like to maintain the illusion that this rehearsal room isn’t exclusively for Jace related daydreaming.

During his sophomore year Simon discovered the ideal place to work on his budding music career, while still keeping up with his classes. It’s on campus, close to the nearest bus stop, and best of all, free for upperclassmen.

The practice rooms in the music department building, popularly called Beauvale House, were generally reserved for music majors. But after a lot of digging, and some bribing of Raphael from the administrative office, Simon learned about a couple of rooms at the very top of the building that could be reserved by anyone with a student ID. They were stationed in a decrepit hallway that was cold and unwelcoming, equipped with two decrepit vending machines and fraying carpet. People hardly ever came near it, it was perfect.

He wasn’t really expecting Jace to saunter in and reserve every spot that came right before Simon’s, and then proceed to abuse Simon’s turns too. But Jace was someone you could never really plan for.

They’ve never had sex in the room, and if they ever did Simon would have to go back to getting menacing looks from his next-door neighbor every time he’s trying to write a new song. He can’t risk that, Ms. Basausky is one scary woman.

“This is pretty much just _our_ rehearsal space you know, no one else actually comes in here,” Jace’s lips are still bruised red, and Simon feels a pang in his chest at the thought that he did that. He can’t help but stare brazenly.

Jace catches him at it, smirking before he reaches for him and trails his thumb against Simon’s lower lip.

When they first started sleeping together, everything was rough and fast and hard, a byproduct of all their bickering. Back then Simon thought that was what Jace was like, passionate and overwhelming in everything he did.

But they are well into the fall now, a lot more used to each other in the intimate sense, and Jace has gotten softer. His eyes are more intense, but his touches are delicate and soft. It makes something in Simon’s chest clench, to think that Jace has become fonder of him now.

“Seriously Jace, Maureen wants us to play this song at the Halloween mixer,” he takes Jace’s hand and places it on his lap with a heavy sigh, regretting the action as soon as he does it, because they’re no longer touching. He stands and moves to set up his guitar, physically pulling himself away from the temptation of holding Jace's hands again. “If I mess it up I’ll still be hearing about it come Thanksgiving.”

“Fine,” Jace huffs. “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the big bad wolf.”

“You know she’d take that as a compliment, right?” Simon takes his guitar out of the case, carefully looking it over.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jace lifts his backpack from the floor, zipping it closed. “Hey, speaking of Thanksgiving, your mom is still going to be on the west coast right?”

“Yeah, Aunt Patty’s hijacking dinner this year. Why?”

“You should spend the break with us, Robert and Maryse always take us skiing upstate.”

Simon stops mid-stride, head jerking back in surprise and almost stumbles forward because of it. He regains his balance and looks up, a sudden coldness hitting him at his core.

“Go skiing? With your family?” he can hear his own voice rise into a shrill pitch.

“Yeah,” Jace continues adjusting his backpack, as if he hadn’t just shattered Simon’s mind.

“Me, meeting your parents?” either the room is moving or Simon’s head is going down into the deep end, making him feel disoriented.

“Meet the Lightwoods you haven’t met already.”

“Yeah,” he thinks he responds, things are starting to get kind of fuzzy.

“So?” Jace approaches him with a gentle smile.

“Uh… can I get back to you on that?”

“Sure,” then he leans down and _pecks Simon on the lips_ , “I’ll see you later.”

He waves before walking out the door, taking all the calm from the room with him.

Did Jace just-?

Holy Fuck.

-*-

**Simon’s Phone**

**The Captain’s Ass**

**October 25 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** What if I declare business as my major

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** ?

 **Simon:** And what, go work at Lightwood Evil inc? U r taking this rebellious non rebellious phase way too far.

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** It’s a smart move. I might like it later you don’t know me

 **Simon:** Shut up. U should pick smthng you luv now not l8ter.

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** …

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Also thinking of getting a buzz cut.

 **Simon:** Dont u fukin dare.

**October 26 th **

**Simon:** Left my notebuk at ur place. Bring it to 605?

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Ok

**October 27 th**

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** I need to school Alec in the true artform of ultimate frisbee

 **Simon:** Obviously

**October 29 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Was that you running in the quad this morning? You need to do more cardio.

**October 31 st **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** You decide on zorro or iron man?

**November 1 st **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Where were you?

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Hangover commiserating over at Magnus later

-*-

In retrospect, it’s something that’s been building up gradually.

First there was that time Simon drank a little too much at the Kappa Tau start of the year party, and Jace took him home instead of hooking up with Meliorn. A week later he tried to get Simon to go to some fancy auction Magnus had been raving about and didn’t even get mad when Simon convinced him to skip it (the blow job probably helped).

And then there was when they had had sex in Jace’s room for the first time. It was fast and full of wanton need like it usually is between them. Simon gripping Jace’s hips with one hand and fucking him with the other, watching Jace fall apart beneath him. But after, Simon hadn't even finished putting his pants on before Jace queued up the second Captain America movie and beckoned Simon back to the bed with a teasing smile.

He’s wracked his brain to try to understand the shifts in Jace’s behavior lately: from the soft touches to the casual kisses and now asking him to _meet his parents_. There’s only one possible explanation.

“How do you know when someone is trying to make you their boyfriend?” Simon says, striding into the bar after a long day of classes and an even longer evening of struggling with his guitar.

“Is this one of those conversations where you just answer yourself?” Maia asks, while wiping down the bar.

It’s Thursday and Izzy’s posting pictures of their friends having a burger eating contest at Taki's Diner (yes, Clary is winning, yes, he is very proud), so the Hunters Moon is his safest bet for the night.

“Okay, first of all,” he picks a stool right in front of her, thankful that it’s a slow night and there’s no one else sitting nearby. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here right now. I’m on a covert operation.”

Maia raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow, looking him over in discernible judgement, “That explains the hoodie and sunglasses inside a bar at nine pm.”

“Its standard protocol for concealing my identity.”

“Un-hu, and who are you hiding from exactly?” she reaches under the bar and takes a bottle of his favorite beer, placing it in front of him without him even having to ask. Bless this wonderful creature. “Might it be a certain conceited lacrosse player?”

“Shhh, you don’t know who’s listening!” he looks around, apprehensive, “Wait, how do you know who I’m hiding from?”

“He’s been asking around about you, came in here twice yesterday to see if you’d been by.”

Great. It’s just his luck that it's nowhere near the official lacrosse season. No way Jace would even notice if Simon moved to Switzerland if he were training to win a game.

Simon is just going to have to stay one step ahead of him.

“Why are you avoiding him?”

“He asked me to spend Thanksgiving with his family,” he says, acutely aware of how the words made him feel a painful squeeze crawling up his throat.

Maia whistles high and gives him a knowing grin. “Wow, big step.”

“It’s not a step,” he shakes his head, drumming his fingers on the bar, “who said anything about steps? There are no stairs involved in this.”

“Meeting the parents? Come on, that’s big. I didn’t know you guys were even like that.”

He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs, “We’re not, we’ve never even been on a date.”

“But I mean, you are already sleeping together.” She says it so matter of fact that it takes him a moment to even process.

“Who told you that?” Simon splutters.

Maia shrugs, but there’s no containing her grin. “Raphael.”

“ _Raphael_ ,” Simon mutters under his breath. That sneaky little gossip.

“Well this isn’t a rom com Maia; there will be no declarations of love followed by fireworks, no out of body experience. We are just having sex. We’ve been doing it for a few months now.” And it does not mean anything, because Jace has sex with everyone and Simon has messed up every relationship he’s ever had by being too clingy.

“Then why is he inviting you to a holiday weekend to meet his family?” she tilts her head to the side, seeming amused at Simon’s agitation.

“ _Exactly_ ,” he takes a deep swig of his drink. Why, indeed. “I talked to Magnus and he says that it’s just the Lightwoods that go there, he called it an _intimate affair_. They always go to the same mountain lodge at the same time every year to celebrate as a family, because it’s where Robert and Maryse met or something. Why would he invite me to that?”

She starts fiddling with the napkin holders, a pensive look on her face. “Well maybe you were right the first time. This is his way of asking you to be more than friends.”

There’s a wild, reckless thrill to the notion, some bright feeling that expands inside his chest. But Simon’s spent days pondering over this already, every theory adding to the uncomfortable, brooding thoughts that have been plaguing him ever since that last kiss from Jace.

This isn’t about Jace wanting to be with _Simon_ , this is about Jace wanting to be in a _relationship_.

 _Fuck._ Simon groans.

“Simon Lewis, don’t you dare pretend that you haven’t spent years pulling each other’s pig tails,” she pointedly warns as she starts to restock the straw dispenser sitting on the bar. “You like that boy.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, shoulders hunched. “I do.”

“Then this is a good thing,” Maia says with a laugh, clearly waiting on some sort of punchline.

Simon plays with the bottle in his hand, slowly peeling away the sticker slick with condensation. He really doesn’t want to talk about this, but Maia is one of his best friends and probably the only person he could really share this with.

He’s briefly torn, but after a moment gives a heavy sigh and sinks deeper into the bar stool. “I don’t want to go through the same thing I went through with Clary, not again.”

“Simon,” she offers, a small, perplexed frown tugging her lips, “that’s different, you were two confused kids.”

“ _She_ was confused,” his lips twist on a wry smile, “she didn’t love me like I loved her, but she dated me anyway because old reliable Simon was just too nice to risk hurting.” Reliable Simon, great in a pinch, a good guy, decent, boring.

Safe.

Maia turns around fully to gape at him. “You can’t think that’s what’s happening with Jace.”

Except he does. Granted, he’s drawing on every ounce of his admittedly limited knowledge about relationships, but he does know Jace. Jace has never made any attempt to hide how he feels about Simon. He's never hesitated to scoff at Simon and tell him all the reasons why he’s a hopeless nerd. Sure, they’re friends now, so there’s no sting to his jabs anymore, but Simon’s still known around campus as that weird kid who petitioned the school to serve kosher meals in the dining hall.

He is never going to be someone Jace actually wants.

“Jace has been on his self-improvement roll ever since the-” he waves his arms, covering the whole family origins drama in one swoop, “thing happened. Don’t get me wrong, this getting his life together has been great, props to his therapist, but now suddenly he wants something more?” he rubs absently at his left arm and knocks back the rest of his beer, draining the bottle in one long chug, “no, he doesn’t want me. He wants a friend he can trust to star in the role of prescription suitor, in the feature film his doctor calls a healthy relationship. He wants a-a-”

“Stand-in boyfriend,” Maia finishes and gives him a pitying look.

Simon nods, feeling like the wind just got knocked out of him.

Because, what else could Jace want from him?

Maia plants her fists on her hips, voice going serious, “I don’t think that’s what’s going on Simon. He’d be lucky to be with you, I mean it.”

“I can’t take that chance. I can’t do it Maia, I can’t have that and then just … not. Not with Jace,” he hesitates, weighing his words. “Being someone’s safety net when they’re _everything_ to you… it’s devastating.”

He’s still not sure how he and Clary were able to preserve any remains of their friendship. He can’t risk it with Jace too.

With Clary, he fell easily, the joy of his first love in every action. He felt it flourish and grow throughout his childhood years. But what he feels for Jace- he didn’t notice it growing at all, not until now. Not until the fear of eventually losing him took over an entire night’s worth of sleep. He can’t risk it.

He can’t let Jace go.

He has to stop Jace from even suggesting something more—before he eventually breaks Simon’s fragile heart.

Maia sighs and hands him a second bottle.

-*-

**Simon's Phone**

**The Captain’s Ass**

**November 3 rd **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Whatever you do, DON’T tell Clary about the thing with the stuff in the freezer.

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Where have you been?

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Simon?

**November 7 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Did you drop your phone in the toilet again?

**November 10 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Simon?

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):**??

**November 13 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Open the door I’m outside.

 **The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Jordan says you’re on a camping trip what the hell?

**November 15 th **

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** Are you seriously avoiding me?

 **Simon:** sorry, not avoiding u busy week tlk later

-*-

He’s been avoiding Jace.

At first it wasn’t even that hard. Jace still hasn’t declared a major, but it’s not like he’s gained a sudden interest in taking classes in accounting. Simon’s been meeting Clary at Starbucks instead of Java Jack’s (tragic but necessary), and Maia at the rec center, which Jace hates. The biggest sacrifice has, of course, been their room at Beauvale House. He settles for rehearsing at the park and getting the stink eye from little old ladies walking their beagles. So what if it smells like dog shit and stale beer?

But after a few successful days his luck runs out. And now? Jace might not be in any of his classes, but he’s everywhere else.

He saunters around the quad while Simon eats lunch on the grass. He takes study breaks at the library’s third floor stairwell, forcing Simon to hide behind a group of sophomores so he can sneak out of the building without being seen. He jogs around the student center building while Simon stares out the window. Whenever he passes too slowly, Simon can see his hand run gently through his hair and it sends his mind reeling.

He might have been used to Jace before, always there with a snarky comment, and then just there, with a hand to help or a shoulder to lean on. It’s different after not having access to him every day. It's important to create boundaries now, he knows. There needs to be some sort of detox, and then a clear separation between what they are and what they'll never be. That’s why he’s gone into this cold turkey.

But now every time he sees him from afar, his heart tries to beat itself right out of his chest. It’s doing other things to Simon’s insides too. Things that can’t be undone.

Asshole.

God, Simon had almost forgotten how entitled Jace could be. Claiming something within him and not even asking Simon for permission, just clawing deeper and deeper and deeper with every one of his stupid smirks, and his fond looks and his touches.

He hasn’t been avoiding Jace, not really. He’s been avoiding the _things_.

But he’s starting to think there’s no real escape.

-*-

**Simon's Phone**

**Alec Lightwood**

**August 2020**

**Simon:** Izzy says ur back!

 **Simon:** Have a gd sumer?

**September 2020**

**Simon:** I know what it looked like but we weren’t doing that, I was just helping him move the bed.

 **Simon:** Seriously Alec.

**October 2020**

**Simon:** Lydia says she need more paint 4 sign

**November 20th**

**Alec Lightwood:** What the fuck do you think you are doing?

-*-

Hiding behind the bushes of Blackthorn Hall is an interesting new low.

He’d ducked down because he thought he’d seen a buff blond walking the stone pathway with a rolling suitcase in hand. Simon came into this world with an inability to stay still, so waiting crouched down in the name of a stealth mission is no easy feat.

He stands once he’s sure no one else is around, looking down to see his jeans covered in dirt tracks. It’s kind of the cherry on top of an already horrible day.

Today’s the day before Thanksgiving break, and no one’s been around to commiserate in his misery. His auditing theory paper was due that morning, so he’d stayed up until three a.m. last night to finish it. He spilled chocolate milk all over himself at lunch, making him late for class. He took a nap right after so he could still make it in time for his slot at the House that night, only to wake up late realizing he’d forgotten to set an alarm.

He'd also spent way too much time in the shower getting reacquainted with the precise balance of blue and brown in the hue of Jace’s eyes. On top of it all, in his rush he’d left both his wallet and his charger on the night table.

Simon is not having a good time and his best friend is absolutely no help.

“I see cranberries and potatoes. Oh hell yes! They got that key lime pie from last year”, he can hear the excitement in her voice even through his phone.

Simon groans loudly, voicing his jealousy. Clary got to go home in the morning while Simon still has too many assignments to catch up on, and so is stuck on campus for the entire break. Hearing her gush over all the delicious dishes Jocelyn is making is really not helping his mood. At least he can comfort himself in the knowledge that Becky and his mom are at aunt Patty’s this year. Missing his mom’s special stuffing is just not worth a college education.

“This is cruel, Fray. I’m trekking in the dead of night just so I can use the recording equipment at Beauvale House. Cold, hungry, an abused victim of academia. Practically alone on campus might I add. You couldn’t have lied to me about the pie?”

Clary snorts, “This is your own fault. There is not one soul on campus on the eve of a break, why didn’t you schedule an earlier slot?”

“I had that paper due, plus you know I work best when the sun is down. It’s my Zen time.”

“Really?” it’s a testament to how well they know each other, when he can practically feel her eyes narrowing even through a voice call, “Are you sure this doesn’t have to do with something else?”

“Like what?” Simon adjusts his guitar strap, balancing it along with his backpack while trying not to drop the phone.

“Like the fact that you’re trying to prevent running into Jace,” she says, voice tinted with exasperation.

“That’s ridiculous,” _-ly true_ , he thinks, at the same time wondering what she knows and how she found out, “my schedule is insane right now; _and_ I’m already hipped on orange soda, this is the best time and place for rehearsing.”

Mostly because he’s sure that Jace is on the way up some snowy mountains right about now. Simon can finally work on his music with more than just his guitar and dented old keyboard without the fear of running into him.

Clary heaves a weary sigh, “This needs to stop, it’s been _weeks._ First you suddenly stop talking to Jace and _about_ Jace, then you liked Izzy’s post about leaving for thanksgiving break today. Now you’ve waited all day to record instead of taking any other available slot, just to give the Lightwood’s and therefore Jace enough time to leave Campus so there’s no way you see him there.”

“I-” he pauses, taking in a deep sharp breath. “Have you been watching Midsomer Murders without me?” he says, indignant. They always commandeer the common room where Clary is an RA and watch it together. “You know that’s a blatant disregard of our friendship code.”

“That hasn’t been enacted since Freshman year so don’t even try it.”

“Fine,” he huffs, finally coming close to the House, wide cobblestone steps looming before him.

“Why are you ghosting him?”

“Ours is a long and complicated story, filled with twists and turns impossible to define where it all went –“

“Are you still mad because he spilled his cheesy nachos on you at that pre-party?”

“It wasn’t about the nachos, he’d said I was being a whiny – Ugh, Clary! I don’t want to talk about Jace.”

“Simon I love you, but if you’re not going to fix things with Jace soon I swear I am _this_ close to setting up a Grindr account."

Simon comes to an abrupt halt, scrambling to keep his guitar in place. “I- What?” he splutters.

“The truth is you’ve been a bit…testy lately.”

“I have not!”

“You are being a grump, so it’s either that you need to get laid, or…” she trails off, implication clear.

“Look, Jace and I need some space, temporary space. Just for a bit, just until – things blow over, and we can go back to normal.” He sighs almost wistfully. Operation Evasion (shut up yes there is a name) is not about destroying, it’s all about _preserving_.

“You can’t hide from your feelings for him forever,” she says so matter of fact, as if that isn't the single most terrifying thing she’s said to him all year.

He knows what he’s doing isn’t the soundest way to go about it, but the idea of talking, of hearing Jace come clear about what he ultimately wants, its painful and uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to confront this. He knows she’ll make him, Clary is all about hitting things head on and suffering the consequences. He stays quiet.

“Jace is a good guy,” she says softly. “And he’s been really needing you right now.” Simon feels a tightness in his chest at her words, a sour taste in the back of his throat.

Annoyed Jace he could handle, even expect. But Jace has already been through the ringer this past year, the last thing he’d ever want is to make him feel like there’s one less person he can count on, someone else to let him down. The thought settles heavy in his stomach.

“And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m sure you’re not alone in this. Are you really going to tell me you haven’t noticed how he looks at you?”

He shakes his head, feeling like he’s coming out of a trance. “ _Clary_ ,” he says in warning. She knows what happens if you put a dangerous idea like that into his head.

“He’s been _trying_ so hard this year, with you specifically,” her voice radiates belief, completely certain of what she’s telling him. “Is being apart like this really what you want?”

Simon prepares himself to say “yes” and prove her wrong, but what comes out instead is soft “I don’t know what I want.”

He fumbles looking for his ID at the entrance, but the jaded student receptionist waves him in. Stacey knows him well enough anyway; he always reserves the exact same room.

“You deserve the world Simon, so if you want to be with Jace Wayland you should just _do it_.”

“I don’t-” he starts, voice thickening. “I don’t know.”

There’s a beat of silence. Simon quietly ponders what she said before. He wanted to defuse the situation, but never _hurt_ Jace- everything’s slowly pointing to him being way in over his head.

“Jesus Fray, all I want is to lay down this track before I turn fifty,” he mutters.

“Fine, be that way,” there’s a noisy huff at the end of the line and he tenses in preparation for what she’s about to say, “just so you know… I’m eating all the pie.”

“Clary!” he grumbles, but she just laughs in the face of his suffering and hangs up, leaving him with a thousand doubts in his mind and the definite guarantee of no pie.

That is just evil.

-*-

Simon makes his way up to the last floor. As far as he can tell the House is empty, everyone except Lacey and himself already gone for the break. He tries a few doors on his way up, just to see if there is anyone there. All locked. Even the double doors leading into their hallway snags a bit, opening only when he pushes harder.

Though he planned it all out, is emphatically late for this very reason, he isn’t really surprised to see the light coming from under the closed door at the end of the hall. When have things ever gone Simon’s way?

He considers ducking into the second practice room, 606, but is too late.

“There you are, Rockstar,” the last man he wants to see tonight walks out of the room twenty minutes after the time Simon reserved it. Jace Wayland is fucking infuriating.

 _Shit, shit, shit_ , he thinks, _I am not ready for this._ Seeing Jace up close after weeks of no contact is gut wrenching.

“What the hell Jace?”

He realizes, perhaps a beat too late, that he’s pointing his index finger just like Miss Suzy used to do to him in kindergarten. It might have embarrassed him with anyone else, but if ever there was someone who needed reminding of proper playground etiquette it’s Jace. “That door was supposed to be open. You _knew_ the room was booked; you always check the sign-up sheet.”

Jace gives him that cocky smile that Simon _hates_. He looks like the CW’s version of a 50’s greaser: leather jacket, oiled back hair, mandatory lickable abs. Except unlike the tv versions, Jace has an ethereal beauty to him. From here Simon can appreciate his long lashes and pure lips. He looks like something carved out of Simon's dreams.

“I figured you wouldn’t use your slot today. Seeing as you’ve missed the last three slots that you had scheduled after me,” his stomach tenses when he notices Jace standing stiffly before him, brow furrowed, and his arms crossed over his chest.

When they first met that was his default stance around Simon. The thought is an uncomfortable one, so he concentrates on how standing like that makes Jace look like one of his old G.I. Joe’s after Becky defaced him with permanent marker.

“So what? That time slot was still taken. Do you just live in a world where reservations mean nothing?” he gestures with his hands, englobing the whole world in a circular movement. “Respect the sheet Jace!”

“You wound me,” Jace puts on a slow smile, lifting his stupid chiseled chin. “I am all about acknowledging anything that places me on top of you.”

His eyes get caught on Simon’s lips like Simon tied them with a string. Is it possible to be struck by lightning from inside a building? He sure feels like that is what just happened.

“That’s- I should go practice,” he tries to sidestep the blond, but the other is quicker, blocking Simon by coming closer.

“Simon,” he leans in, his smirk dimming, “We should talk.”

“About your utter lack of listening comprehension?”

“No, about where you’ve been the past month.” He's tense and gearing up for something, stiff with purpose. His eyes turn steely, and there is even a slight scowl on his face.

It makes him feel like something is clawing up his throat. Disappointing people makes him feel like shit, especially _Jace_. But he doesn’t know what to say to make everything okay again.

He settles on, “Don’t know what you mean.”

Hey out all the possible defense mechanisms one can use, avoidance isn’t anywhere near the worst thing he could do. Besides denial is a virtue and ignorance is bliss, he’s sure he read that somewhere.

"Right," Jace shakes his head, exasperated. He shifts back with a heavy sigh. Thankfully his voice takes on a teasing tone, “How about we just focus on how you’re going to make it up to me?”

Simon can practically feel his stomach drop down to his feet. Having Jace so close is suddenly starting to make him dizzy. Still, he knows how this type of teasing is meant to play out between them. “Because everyone always wants to do things for you?” he says with a snort.

“That’s generally how it goes yeah,” Jace honest to God _winks_ and though all of Simon’s higher brain functions beg his body not to, he still feels his cheeks getting hot.

Frankly, he's not thinking about what he’s saying at all, only the fact that it's been weeks since he's been able to touch Jace, feel the warmth of his skin against Simon’s own, and he misses it terribly. The thought of being allowed to _do something_ for Jace, like get his mouth on Jace's cock, is one that sends a bolt of desire right through him.

“What I _want_ is for you to let me have one day, just one, where you let me get in and out of that room in peace.”

“You sure that’s all you want?” Jace’s smirk finally gives in to become a knowing, almost teasing smile, while he leans against the vending machine. Simon swallows hard. “Because I think you hate coming to this place without me here.”

“Can’t wait to test that theory,” he forgoes passing by Jace and instead turns towards the exit. “In fact, why don’t I just get the door for you so we can get started on that.”

“Maybe we should test out something more hands on.”

He trips hastily and stumbles onto the double doors. He hears Jace’s mocking snort behind him but ignores it. The doors should have opened under him. He pushes at one side, holding down the crash bar, and then pushes on the other. Nothing.

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

They’re stuck.

-*-

Clary and Simon do not, as the people say, share one brain cell. But when they were little, they liked to pretend they were able to hear each other’s thoughts from miles away.

That’s why he is sure that even all the way out in Brooklyn Clary somehow knows about this already, and she is cackling with glee.

“It’s not budging,” Jace pushes the double doors, trying to get them open by throwing all his weight into it. Simon fidgets with his phone, looking around the hallway for another way out, already knowing there is none.

“My phone’s dead,” he tells Jace, running his hand along the back of his neck, “and my charger is back in my room. Not that it would matter, Clary’s back home already just like everyone else. We’re the only ones dumb enough to stay on campus and now were going to die in here. I never even got to play Halo Infinite!”

“Hey. _Relax_ ,” it sounds like a command coming from Jace’s flat tone but it makes Simon feel calmer. He takes a deep breath and accidently catches Jace’s concerned gaze. They both blink and quickly look away.

“All right, okay,” he knows he isn’t having a panic attack, he’s intimately familiar with how those feel. The situation isn’t that dire right? Plus having Jace there with him makes him feel a bit better about it.

“How about your phone?”

“Left it in the locker downstairs,” when Jace shrugs his blue henley stretches along his chest, making Simon’s heart flip painfully. He has a sudden urge to touch, smooth his fingers along that strong upper body. He puts his hands in his pockets instead.

“You left your phone in a locker, who does that?”

“Someone who doesn’t need to check their phone every five minutes,” Jace pointedly glances at the dead device in his hand.

“ _Hey_ ,” he says, indignant. “The average college student checks their phone like eleven times a day. I’m just like everyone else.”

Jace snorts, looking aside. “You are not like anyone else.”

Simon clears his throat. “Well what do we do? Try to signal through the windows?”

“It’s almost eight o’clock, who’s going to see you?” Jace saunters back into the rehearsal room, Simon following him in reluctantly. He vowed to stay away from Jace and enclosed spaces for a while, but it seems like now he has no choice in the matter.

“Campus security could see us through the window,” he says hopefully, but that hope shatters when he remembers the window looks out into a giant oak tree, the branches obscuring the space from sight. It was one of his favorite things about this room. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Jace has clearly come to the same conclusion since all he does is sprawl himself on the couch with one knee haphazardly crooked over the arm of it. It is unfair how tempting he looks, staring up at Simon with his arm stretched out on the couch support as if beckoning Simon to lay his head down on it. Fuck.

“We should just wait for the security guard to do another sweep; he’s bound to notice the light on.” Though he would like to argue, Simon can find no fault in that logic.

He looks around for a place to sit that is far, far away from the literal _loveseat_ and settles on the office chair in front of the recording system.

Jace raises his eyebrows at Simon with a judgement born of annoyance, but otherwise doesn’t comment. Good, he shouldn’t. It is Simon’s prerogative where he sits, and when he practices, and what he does with his time, and who he sees in that time. It isn’t like he owes Jace anything, he doesn’t. Especially not when Jace is just sitting there, staring back at him as if waiting for Simon to explain himself. He doesn’t even owe him a conversation.

“So,” he says not a minute later, damn his dislike of awkward silences. “What are you still even doing in town?”

Jace shifts in his seat and says nothing, arms coming together across his chest and neck going stiff with tension. It’s faint, but Simon can tell he hit a nerve somehow not even ten words into the conversation.

“Sorry I asked,” he mumbles, already shifting himself away. This is exactly why he can’t be around Jace right now, being near him always ends up in something messy.

“Why are you-” Jace starts to say, but Simon is already jumping up from his chair, eager to get away from this.

“No, it’s fine, that’s totally none of my business.”

Jace rolls his eyes, “Of course it’s your business Simon, I’m here because I was waiting for you.”

“Waiting- why?”

“Why?” he says, a look of disbelief written all over his face, “Because every time you see me you run, literally. You’ve been avoiding me for a month.”

“Avoiding? Me?” his lips feel dry as they stretch into a sheepish grin, “What? No.”

Jace lets out an incredulous laugh. It is a dull, hollow sound, but he still looks completely comfortable lounging in his seat.

“That’s it? _No_. That’s all you have to say to me?”

“There’s nothing else to say,” Simon answers, and he doesn’t mean to say it like that; like something low and soft, his voice defenseless.

Right then, Simon should have realized that he was pushing too far, he should’ve recognized the nonchalance as a sign of Jace’s patience running out. When you’ve been sleeping with, and paying very close attention to, someone for months, you were bound to notice a thing or two.

“Normally I can’t get you to shut up if your life depended on it, now the one time I want to hear you blabber on about what’s happening with you, you have ‘ _nothing to say_ ’?” Jace snaps, and now Simon can see it. He’s _angry._ His face impassive, eyes glassy and dark. He is looking at Simon like he doesn’t even know him, a look that hurts more than his words.

But Simon’s angry too. Angry that things aren’t going how he wants them too, angry that this isn’t something that’s just going away. He’s angry at Jace for wanting to change things, and mostly angry at himself, for being afraid of losing Jace when he knew what he was getting into from the start.

“You know what, if you find me so annoying maybe I _should_ be avoiding you,” his gaze darts between the seat and the open door. There is a small, miniscule chance that he could prevent a conversation where Jace suggests something that will ruin them, if he can just keep Jace’s attention on anything else.

“In fact, maybe I should just sit in 606 so you don’t have to hear another word from me the entire night.”

“You might as well, I’ve gotten used to not seeing your stupid face. In fact, why don’t you just go ahead and stay gone until New Years. Or better yet, graduation.”

“Fine by me, see you _never_ ,” he takes the opportunity and leaves, stomping away for good measure. A breath of relief seeping into his chest.

-*-

**Sunday, 7:07 PM**

**The Captain’s Ass (Jace):** They’re showing A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving in the student union, your favorite.

-*-

They stew in silence for a time. Simon sits quietly in the next room, looking out the open door that faces their rehearsal space. He can’t see Jace from this angle, but he can hear him move around the room. His movements are punctuated by the sharp rustle of paper and angry sighs.

Eventually he hears the tinkling of piano keys, the benchmark sound of someone warming up to play. He imagines Jace sitting there, making grasping motions with his hands that raise his wrists every time he hits a note.

Stubbornness has always been one of Simon’s core personality traits, so really, he is surprising himself the most when he leans against the doorway to 605 a few minutes later. He figures he can’t be blamed for it; anyone would be coaxed back by the warm sounds coming from the piano.

Jace has a particular relationship with the piano. He looks at the instrument like it means something, like it’s a living thing. Now Jace settles at the edge of the bench like he’s bowing to it, he’s taken off his jacket so his arms stay straight and relaxed, Jace’s deft fingers dancing gracefully against the keys.

He’s a sight to see when he plays like this, total control over the whirlwind of wonderful sounds and him as the dazzling, golden center of it all. A beautiful picture.

He’s playing something slow, wistful. His hands are confident, so sure, no different to the touches he imparts upon Simon. The certainty of his hands, the control he excludes over the music, it’s just like when he strokes Simon’s sides, gentle but sure.

There is something pushing behind Simon’s ribs that twists and aches at the sight of him, feeling something pulsing at his core. He looks at Jace and he feels alive.

It has been weeks. Almost four weeks since he’s been this close to Jace, and now he’s caught firmly between the need to stare at him, at his talented hands and his wrinkled brow, and the self-preservation instincts telling him he’s bound for pain if he keeps it up.

Jace closes his eyes and nods his head gently with the music as he changes the tempo; the song still light but now increasing in pace, joy spreading from the rhythm as he goes. The notes hit Simon through his entire body, sending jolts of warmth all over him.

The crescendo speaks in a sweet-tempered tone, swinging from bright and contented to tranquil. It concludes softly in a melodic note, leaving Simon with an overwhelming feeling of hope.

He’s not sure how long he stands there gawking like an idiot, but Jace ignores him, which is fair. When the melody comes to a natural stop he clears his throat, grateful that Jace turns to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and means it. Simon’s been the one avoiding him and practicing evasive combat maneuvers on their friendship. Simon should be the one to apologize. “I shouldn’t have just dropped off your radar like that. I should’ve called, or-” _texted you back_ , he doesn’t say, though he thinks that Jace hears it anyway.

Jace nods, sitting at the piano bench perfectly poised yet somehow still looking deflated. It brings back that thickness in his throat, the guilt at being the cause of Jace’s discomfort. Simon’s fingers itch to get close and brush over the shadows under his eyes, knowing he has no right to it. He longs to bury his fingers in Jace’s hair and pull him close; press his lips against his collarbone and hear his breath hitch.

But he doesn’t. They’re locked in the same room but they might as well be miles apart.

Simon hates this. He hates not talking to Jace every day, he hates missing their weekly movie nights, he even hates trying to win at air hockey without him, in part because he’s really bad at it but mostly because it’s no fun with anyone else but Jace.

Clary’s right, he _has_ gotten grumpier and it’s not because he’s missing the regular sex. He wants to talk to Jace more than he wants to talk to anyone else and being next door instead of right next to him is seeming like the dumbest exercise in misery.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean it, you talking isn’t exactly horrible.”

“Since I’ve been kind of -- not around lately, I probably owe you some sort of explanation.”

Jace nods but there’s still a visible tension in his body, “So what now?”

He tries to smile, but it's slight and doesn't quite reach his eyes, not the infuriating smirk or amused grin Simon is used to seeing from him. He wonders if Jace will stay angry at him, if he’s waiting for a moment to tell him off.

But he doesn’t look angry, he seems cautious and … hopeful.

Simon looks around for something else to diffuse the friction that’s settled in the small space when he lands on the backpack on the floor.

“Okay, hear me out.”

That’s how they both end up sitting on the piano bench, Jace pulls him down before Simon can get to the office chair again, aiming things at a carefully angled Idris University mug sitting on the music rack across the room.

It’s not the biggest seat so Simon has to squeeze next to Jace, pressed up against him, their thighs touching from knee to hip. Something that would have led to a different kind of touch a few weeks ago, but the last thing he should be doing right now. He can nearly feel the heat coming off of Jace and suddenly he can barely hold his breath.

“All right,” he settles in, hands cradling their projectiles. “For every one you make, you get a question. For every one _I_ make I get a veto to a question, never to be asked again. Deal?”

Jace rolls his eyes, taking a pen and sending it sailing across the room to land neatly into the goal. He throws them like darts—first the pens and then anything else small enough to fit. He sinks at least six things in a row, one by one going in and crushing Simon’s fleeting hopes of steering the conversation.

When Simon attempts to land just one pencil it bounces off the rack with a resounding clank. He tries again and again. Jace even laughs at one point, his entire body shaking with it. If he has to lose so spectacularly, at least he can do it by making Jace smile for a few minutes.

“How are you so good at this?”

“I’m good at everything,” he shrugs, and Simon would be annoyed at how matter of fact he sounds, but it’s true, he’s unfairly talented at most things.

“A classic Wayland answer,” he grumbles, shoving Jace good naturedly on the bench. His smile is still there, the sight of it makes something warm ignite in his chest.

He knows he’s just asking for trouble, but he can’t help how his eyes linger on Jace’s lower lip. It’s been so long since they’ve kissed, since they’ve been this close, the press of their bodies exactly right. He knows it’s a mistake as soon as he looks up again and catches Jace staring right back. His hand is suddenly in Simon’s hair, slowly tugging as he pulls him nearer.

Everything he wants is right in front of him but also impossibly far.

He tells himself that kissing Jace- having sex with Jace can be just sex and stay that way. If he ignores his worries he can have this closeness, have Jace in all the ways he’s learned to before, and not lose him by risking anything else. He tells himself that as he stares hopelessly at the man before him, familiar lips leaning closer and closer.

“Are you hungry?” he says in a rush, jumping up from the bench before anything can happen, “ _I’m_ hungry.”

He dashes out of the room and back into the hallway; it takes everything in him not to look back.

-*-

Out in the hallway the overhead light isn’t the best but the vending machine has its own backlight, so he can stare morosely at his reflection with minimum effort. This is his life; these are his choices.

“So now we can’t even be in the same room together?” Jace marches out after him, bright spots of color high on his cheeks.

“I mean technically this is all just the one big space.”

“I swear to God Lewis,” Jace’s hands shoot out and for a moment Simon almost thinks he’s going to shove him, but then they curl in his shirt and yank him closer. “If you don’t stop running out on me I’m going to _sit on you_ ,” he practically growls, a challenge in his tone, “until we can have one fucking conversation.”

He’s nearly panting, and the force and unexpectedness of the movement makes them both stumble back.

“I-,” Jace’s gaze is heavy on him, laden with emotion, Simon swallows loudly. “Fine.” It’s not like he’s ever going to be ready to tell Jace he can’t date him, because he’s practically in love with him. He kind of wishes he could keep stalling indefinitely until he doesn’t have to think about it anymore. He does take a second to recognize that he’s really proud of Jace. Who’d have thought he’d ever be the one to insist on any kind of conversation about feelings?

“Fine?” Jace keeps him close and shakes him a bit.

Simon nods, blinking fast. “But I really am hungry, I haven’t eaten dinner.”

Jace rolls his eyes and waves his hands, “Go ahead.”

Simon observes the display for far too long. He doesn’t have a dime on him, his wallet is still in his apartment. Ha sneaks a look at Jace who’s waiting impatiently.

“I left my wallet,” he finally confesses.

Jace glares at him, “Seriously Simon?” he asks, exasperated.

“It's fine, Izzy totally taught me how to hack this,” he tries rocking one of the machines to try and dislodge one of the pack of Oreos in the third row.

Jace observes with a pinch expression on his face, “You are making this physically painful.”

“Excuse me?” when it doesn’t move Simon tries reaching in from the gap at the bottom, he swears Izzy did this in like a second.

“This is outright stupid, this thing could actually tip over and crush you, let me just-” Jace grabs him from behind and starts pulling him away.

“Jesus Jace let me take my arm out first,” Simon tries to dislodge his arm while he swats at Jace, “You’re twisting it!” but Jace is quicker and yanks him out of the machine in one swoop.

Together they struggle to find their feet and overbalance, falling to the floor. Jace cushions Simons fall so it’s his back against Jace’s chest, a firm wall of warmth laying under him. He over his shoulder and finds Jace staring down at him, arms still around Simon. “Well, guess we really _fell_ for that trick huh?”

“Jesus-” Jace sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “ _Please_ just go back inside, I’ll get you something.”

Simon laments having to move away but quickly complies, once again going back into the room, walking like a soldier marching to his death.

When Jace comes back he gives him a pack of Oreos and his usual brand of orange soda with a rueful smile. Simon can’t help but wince remembering his soda binging session that afternoon. Jace’s smile falls, “You don’t want it?” he asks, making it sound like a personal failure.

Simon snatches the drink and takes the biggest gulp that he can, swallowing down the urge to gag. “Is good,” he says around a mouthful of chemical torture. Jace goes to sit with a roll of his eyes, but his lips are turned up once more.

The blond stares at him expectantly all through every bite he takes. When he’s done, he takes his time taking everything to the garbage, and then clearing his shirt carefully of any crumbs.

Jace lets out a humorless chuckle and crosses his legs, intent on waiting him out. He taps his fingers judgmentally on the armrest, and honestly how does he even manage that?

Simon sighs, he might as well start. “You know how you kind of invited me to Thanksgiving and-” he tries to encompass it all in the movement of his hands.

“ _That’s_ what freaked you out?” he scrunches up his face adorably, “Are you afraid of going skiing?”

Simon rubs his forehead, avoiding looking all Jace all suave and secure about this. This is Simon’s nightmare.

“No, it’s just that that’s sort of a relationship thing isn’t it? Going on vacation with your family.”

Jace goes so silent that he has to take a deep breath and look up, in time to see the way his lips curl up into a small, sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It can be,” he says, weary.

“Right, and maybe you didn’t even mean it like that, but I thought we could use a little space you know. To regroup and-”

“I meant it.”

“What?”

Jace grimaces, expression twisting as he bites his lip. He looks worried. Simon’s blood roars in his ears. He knows what’s coming next. Jace is gearing up to say something, and when he meets Simon’s eyes again his expression is enough of a confirmation on how very much Jace doesn’t want to do this.

“I meant it-- like that. I thought we could- fuck, I don’t know, talk?” Jace says, sounding like there’s something pulling at his tongue. “About…us?” his lips twist immediately after, as if the effort of saying those words is physically painful.

“Oh,” Simon’s eyes drop, slowly, to Jace’s hands as he twists them together. He swallows, throat working. His shoulders slump but he doesn’t say anything, heart shrinking in his chest.

There’s another beat as they both work through what’s being said. It proves to be too long for Jace, who starts shaking his head slowly, something bitter to the twist of his smile. “So that’s why you haven’t returned my calls for weeks.”

“I- I didn’t know how to have this conversation,” he confesses. “I just. I was just _scared_ , I think. And then it just seemed easier not to talk to you about anything, then face the possibility of us wanting different things.”

“I’m sorry,” he tells Jace, eyes screwing shut. “I am so sorry.”

When he chances a glance, he sees Jace sag against his seat, head tilted down and frowning, a pained expression on his face.

“Jace?”

He makes a low noise in his throat, wincing before he looks up at Simon. “It’s fine,” he says, his voice hoarse at first. He clears his throat, “I mean not _fine_. But I’m a big boy, I’ll handle it.” He seems to hesitate on his next words, before visibly swallowing.

“We can keep being friends though, right?”

Simon can feel his eyebrows raise. It warms him to think that they’re on the same page, Jace doesn’t want to lose him either, it’s a light-hearted feeling. “Do you think we can?” he asks, hopeful.

Jace looks down, shuffles his feet in front of him. “I know I’m… hard to care about like that. I’m not exactly what people want in a boyfriend or whatever, I get it,” he mutters, voice heavy and thick. “But the other stuff’s been good, you know it has. I shouldn’t have asked for more.”

Despite the sadness in his chest, the sick feeling gripping his stomach, Simon can’t help the sudden rush of anger that overcomes him. He gets up and in a flash is in front of Jace, leaning to punch him lightly on the arm.

“ _Ow_. What the hell Simon?”

It takes a good minute for Simon to control himself before he’s coherent enough to answer.

“You are _not_ difficult to love. And you’d make the best fucking boyfriend,” he says, and watches Jace jerk his head back in surprise.

“What?” he gapes up at him.

Simon is frankly feeling indignant. “You’re _you_. You’re sweet, even when you try to hide it by being a dick. You’re kind and protective and loving, anyone who’s seen you with your siblings knows that. And you make me all crazy with how conceited you can be, but you are strangely amazing at everything you try because you actually, truly, _try_. You make an effort and you show up for everyone, and you have no idea how much that’s worth.”

If Jace weren’t all that and more Simon wouldn’t be going through all this. He wouldn’t be falling, so effortlessly, for someone so out of his league, if it wasn’t impossible to stop.

“Why are you being so confusing?” Jace practically snarls, sounding accusatory.

“Trust me, you’ll be great at this Jace. It’s just that it has to be with someone you really want to be with.”

It doesn’t seem possible, but Jace looks even more bewildered, eyes widening. He stands so he can face Simon, brow furrowed in confusion. “I really like _you_. Was that not clear enough?”

“Do you?” Simon asks, his voice raises slightly. He wraps his arms around himself, holding himself back from reaching over. “Do you want to date _me_ Jace? Or do you just think you’re supposed to just because I’m familiar? Because I’m safe and convenient?”

“Convenient?” he repeats, blinking in a daze while standing there, motionless.

Simon rolls his shoulder, falling on to the piano bench with a long sigh, suddenly exhausted. “I can’t do that again, Jace.”

“Do what?”

“Just. Be- I don’t know, pigeon-holed as the good guy to take home to Mom. Be that best friend that fills all the boxes and so you date him, and it’s nice, but then you know… it’s not so nice. Not for me,” he bows his head.

“Why do you think I just want to- to fill some quota?” he looks up and Jace’s hands are balled into fists. How does he not get this?

“Because!”

“Because _what_ , Simon?”

“Why else would you settle for someone like me?” Simon barks out.

They stare at each other for a long beat, eyes lingering. When he can’t take it anymore Simon tears his eyes away and starts poking angrily on the piano keys. Jace sighs, then sits gingerly beside him on the bench.

“You know,” he says, his tone conversational, “if you wanted me to nudge you towards taking a go at therapy yourself, I would have happily given you Dr. Fells number.”

Simon half-heartedly digs his elbow into his ribs. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, from a scale of, like, one to ten of unnecessary angst,” Jace goes on, “avoiding me just so I wouldn’t ask you for a change in our relationship because you _want_ a change in our relationship, but somehow don’t think you what, deserve it? That’s way off the charts.”

“Yeah, well, I’m an overachiever,” Simon tells him.

“Alright, maybe we need to do this your way,” Jace huffs, arranging himself so he’s straddling the bench and facing Simon, hands cradle his face gently and Simon’s chest burns.

“Listen to me Simon Lewis. First of all, You? You overthink _everything_ , but then somehow get into the dumbest situations-”

“You’re one to-”

“- you like to hold me down when we’re fucking and then start quoting Star Wars for some reason. You’re absolutely terrified of Alec and yet you bake him brownies cause they’re his favorite. You write lyrics that are like reaching into your chest and baring your heart to the world but were too embarrassed to face me after kissing me the first time. You’re a walking contradiction and I _like_ that about you.” He tilts his head, eyes heavy. “There’s nothing safe or _convenient_ about how I feel about you. You scare me.”

“Scare you?”

He gives him a bitter laugh, “I’m terrified of you, you don’t know how scary you are to me Simon.”

Simon blinks, utterly confused. “I’m 160 pounds soaking wet.”

“All you had to do was stop answering my texts for a few weeks and I was wrecked, the thought of going another week and us not talking…” Jace seems to think that he’s said too much, as he lets go of Simon to cross his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t think you’d care that much.” He hadn’t thought that he had the power to affect Jace at all.

“I-” Jace puts his face in his hands, huffing a frustrated groan. “I- missed you.”

And Simon’s starting to get it now, it’s not the words giving Jace problems so much as the _saying_ them. “I missed you too, for what it’s worth. Like, really missed you.”

Jace offers him a questioning gaze, gently biting at his lower lip. “I’m sorry about whatever happened with you before, but I’m not trying to … complete an assignment or check off a dating requirement. You could never be someone to settle for,” he says, earnest. “Fuck Simon, I’ve been trying to even be worthy of asking you out since like last Christmas.”

“That’s kind of hard to-- wait,” he starts and backtracks to the word _worthy_ , then asks softly, “Christmas?”

Jace scowls, “God this is _so much_ talking.”

“Jace…” Simon can’t help himself, he grasps at Jace’s arm. The blond takes a deep breath, clutching at Simon as he keeps talking uneasily.

“Last year, it may have come to my attention that before I told you how I felt that I might have to try and be more… together. More reliable, I guess. It came at a really crappy time, but it wasn’t bad advice, so I started to try some stuff. You know like seeing someone, and talking to my family, and writing that song… fuck, is this rambling? Am I rambling?” he says, pushing his hair out his eyes.

Simon nods and slides his other hand to grip Jace’s, lacing their fingers together tightly.

“You kind of are,” he grins, Jace’s eyes meeting his. Simon has to swallow an unexpected lump in his throat when Jace’s thumb strokes his hand gently. He has no clue what’s going on. He tries remembering all the reasons for his doubts, but Jace is saying things like that, with such tenderness, and looking at him like something special.

“I don’t-” he cuts himself off, obviously frustrated. “I’m not good at this. You’re supposed to be the one with all the words you know.”

Jace’s fingers dig into his arm, holding him firm as that damn thumb caresses the palm of his other hand. A baffling heat vibrates through Simon’s body, his heart beating too fast and loud against his chest.

“I know,” but Simon kind of loves this. Jace has never been good with words, forcing Simon to read his feelings in other ways. Through his touches and smirks, the way he would moan for Simon. But it seems that for all that he thought he knew Jace, he doesn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle.

Jace sighs, “I just,” he gets up, swearing under his breath as he goes. Simon doesn’t know what kind of pull his feet are obeying but he stands as well, watching Jace cross the room to rummage through his backpack until he has a piece of paper in his hand. He walks back and gives it to Simon. It’s sheet music, on top of it says ‘Simon’ and next to it in a different colored pen he recognizes Izzy’s handwriting completing it to read ‘Simon’s pretty face’.

It dawns on him then, “What you were playing before. That song was for _me?_ ”

“ _About_ you. It says Simon doesn’t it?” He frowns down at Simon, crossing his arms defensively. But Simon doesn’t fall for that.

“Technically it says _Simon’s_ _pretty face_.” God, now he understands. That song was meant to _show_ him how Jace feels. A song that’s vibrant, compelling, and beautiful, so perfectly Jace. It was everything Jace made him feel too. Simon can’t believe this is happening.

A flush creeps along Jace’s face, Simon didn’t even know it could do that. “It was Izzy being annoying after I told her I was bailing on Thanksgiving. It used to just say ‘Simon’.”

“Oh. So, you don’t think I’m pretty.”

Jace rolls his eyes, he’s clearly gearing up to say something snarky but then he stops himself. “Simon, you’re the kind of pretty they write songs about,” he says, his eyes wide, expression open and sincere. “I’d know.”

Simon’s heart skips a beat and then starts pounding wildly against his rib cage.

Oh _._

_Oh._

“So what you’re saying is that you… like me.” It seems weird to even think it, but in retrospect Simon’s been kind of dumb not seeing it in everything else Jace has done until now.

He rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. “Glad you finally got there.”

“And apparently you’ve liked me for a while.”

“Against my better judgement,” Jace shrugs.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Simon says, a wide joyful grin stretching across his face.

Jace directs an exasperated stare at him. “And how do you feel?”

“Oh, I think you’re swell,” He means to say gorgeous or _breathtaking_ , but he can’t think of anything except that the twitch of Jace’s lips at the corners of his mouth make Simon really want to kiss him. Everything swiftly courses through Simon, the way he feels for this man and the impossibility of it all brimming in his throat.

“You think I’m incredible,” Jace teases, seeing right through him. But Simon’s kind of done with teasing right now.

“I think I’m at least halfway in love with you.”

Jace stares at him, apparently stunned silent.

He figures if Jace can put himself out there like he has tonight, then so can he. “Do you want to drive down to the Fray’s with me tomorrow?” he asks, “My Mom and sister won’t be there, but you could meet Luke and Jocelyn.”

“Spend Thanksgiving with you,” Jace says, still stunned, his face going soft with surprise. Simon nods.

“Yes,” Jace beams, his entire expression radiating joy as he practically glows.

“Don’t feel obligated to-”

“Ok,” he takes a step forward, coming closer to Simon.

“I mean it Jace. We can still be friends if it doesn’t-”

“Sure,” he says, pressing them close together and cupping Simon’s face. Simon stays as still as he can, his heart beating like crazy at having Jace so close.

“It’s ok to want different-”

“Shut up Simon,” Jace tells him, before leaning in and crushing their lips together. His mouth is warm and tastes like chap-stick, it’s a familiar and thrilling sensation, heat pooling in Simon’s stomach.

He’s been holding back for so long-he can’t anymore, so he does what he’s wanted to do for weeks. Simon takes Jace by the hips and turns them over so he can slam him against the nearest surface, which by the loud resounding clang is evidently the piano. He completely ignores the sound in favor of pushing his hands into Jace’s hair, tugging slightly and deepening the kiss. Simon works their lips together alternating between slow, intimate licks and little nips that incite a small shudder from both of them. He swipes his tongue along Jace’s lower lip, slipping it into his mouth, hot and wet, and he makes the most perfect noise in the back of his throat.

Jace pulls back to look at Simon, hand gently caressing his cheek before sliding down and running a thumb across Simon’s puffy, pink lips.

“Not on the piano,” he says hoarsely, already pushing him back and maneuvering Simon a few steps backward until the back of his knees hit the loveseat. He promptly straddles Simon’s thighs, grinning down at him.

“This seems familiar,” Jace smirks and yanks him closer, capturing his lips even more thoroughly, hands wandering all over his chest. Excitement thrums in Simon’s veins, his cock already beginning to pulse with anticipation as the familiar weight of Jace settles over him. Jace begins to rock into him, a gentle roll of his hips that sends a shiver of heat down Simon’s spine.

He sweeps his tongue across his upper lip as he says, “Yeah?” asking for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Simon answers in a husky voice.

After so long of not being able to have this, Simon doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last. He hasn’t so much as looked at anyone that isn’t Jace. Needless to say, he’s pretty keyed up.

He rocks his hips up experimentally, flushing at how warm Jace is in all the places their bodies are pressed together. He starts rubbing little circles on the sides of Jace’s hips with his thumbs and Jace rocks forward harder in response, flicking his tongue in and out of Simon’s mouth in a sensual tease.

Simon groans low in his chest as the action brings the hard line of Jace’s erection clashing down with Simon’s own, making him see stars. Their cocks touching, Jace hovering over him, his smell of fresh grass, everything is Jace, he’s invading Simon’s senses.

He lets Jace press into him even further, making the most embarrassing sounds. He extracts himself from the kiss and goes to nip at the skin between his shoulder and neck, suckling at it between his lips. Soothing it with his mouth before biting down on it.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jace says in between gasps and Simon almost breaks the skin from biting so hard.

“Me too. God, I’m an idiot,” Jace laughs noisily at him, rolling his hips down again and eliciting another moan.

When his brain starts working again, Simon runs his hands up and down Jace’s back, pulling at his shirt so he can touch the warm delicate skin underneath it. And - _oh god_ , that's the hard line of Jace's cock lining up with his once more.

"You're so good," he whispers against Jace’s skin. "So beautiful."

Simon can’t stop himself from pressing a chain of kisses up his neck and against his jaw, feeling Jace’s fingers flex where he’s holding on to Simon’s shirt.

“Do you have anything?” he asks, panting. He hadn’t exactly planned to need lube or condoms tonight. Jace shakes his head, leaning up to kiss him again, lips eager and wet, tasting Simon like he can’t seem to get enough. Simon’s reeling, you don’t kiss like that unless you’re in love with the someone you’re kissing.

He doesn’t even notice when Jace gets his hands up his shirt until he pinches his nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb.

Simon swallows thickly.

“We don’t need anything. Just this, I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” he licks his hand, reaches down, unbuttons Jace’s fly and cups his aching cock through his underwear, making Jace gasp.

It’s wonderful, feeling Jace come apart on top of him like this, just for him. He takes free reign to lap at Jace’s mouth, darting in with his tongue and showering attention to his lower lip as he begins to stroke Jace’s cock under the fabric of his underwear.

“Simon, _Simon_ , please,” Jace murmurs against his mouth, hitching his hips, “Please, keep- keep talking.”

They ride the friction together like that, Jace grinding on him, the rub of skin on skin paired with the frantic twist of Jace’s fingers on his nipple. It feels incredible. He keeps stroking Jace, curving at an angle that makes Jace moan and effectively slump down against him, his nails digging into Simon’s chest.

“Do you want me to tell you how good you feel? How I’ve thought about it every day- about what I should have done that last time. I should have thrown you down on the floor and fucked you right here on the carpet. I jerked off thinking about that earlier, about fucking you into the floor until you couldn’t even walk from the rug burn,” Jace groans loudly, head falling back in pleasure as hips move wild and frantic.

“Look at you, fuck,” Simon whines grabbing Jace’s ass and pressing him harder against Simon’s hand. “That’s it. Just like that, baby. Rub yourself off.”

“ _Fuck_ —Simon, yes, yes --” breathy gasps mingle with the wet, sloppy sounds of Simon’s working fingers and then Jace’s hips are jerking as he comes in Simon’s hand with a broken off cry. Simon follows a minute later, his cock spurting hot inside his underwear.

-*-

It takes a while before they even try moving, untangling themselves and attempting to adjust their clothes as best they can. Exchanging shy smiles and surreptitious glances as they go; Simon’s knees go weak at the sight of Jace putting his leather jacket back on.

When they’re done Jace looks at him, suddenly serious. “No more running away, okay? If you get scared just tell me… please.”

Simon hesitates for just a second before he nods heartily, taking Jace’s hand and kissing him tenderly. He’s rewarded for his efforts by Jace’s beaming expression and glowing cheeks.

It’s all seeming kind of silly now, how afraid he was to talk to Jace. He probably does need to speak with Dr. Fell one of these days. But for now there’s still one thing that needs doing here.

“If no one heard us then there’s definitely no one around. How are we going to get out of here?”

“Ah,” Jace says, bending down towards his bag, “we could call Campus security,” he fishes out his phone and presents it to Simon.

“Jace, did you get us stuck here on purpose?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowing.

“No,” Jace starts dialing his phone, entirely unconcerned. “I just lied about having my phone so you would talk to me.”

Simon softens, “Guess I can’t blame you for that.” Jace just smirks at him, shaking his head and tightening his grip on Simon’s fingers.

While he calls, Simon looks around the room, suddenly incredibly grateful for it’s existence.

“They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Simon slyly eyes the piano. Jace can be pretty private about his pieces, but then again- “I really liked my song, I don’t think I said that before. Will you play it for me one more time?”

Jace grins at him, head dipping. They sit on the bench at the same time, leaning into where their bodies are pressed together.

There are no fireworks, definitely no out of body experience.

But there is music.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about colleges in the US I learned from the abc family show GRΣΣK. 
> 
> Come say hi [ finditagain24.tumblr.com/](https://finditagain24.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Title is from the song “Campus” by Vampire Weekend


End file.
